Game Show Love Connection
by Natasha Kimberly
Summary: A story about two people with nothing...but end up with everything-each other. A story about falling in love,'cause everyone-even these two-are in love with love.
1. Chapter 1

'The evening was falling and my whole head rattled, my teeth chattered and bones ached. The wind howling outside the cave was enough to make me think I was stupid for having come at all. I mean, this mission wasn't worth sacrificing my life. No fucking hell.'

I flexed my fingers after typing the above words on my type-writer. I contemplate whether I should take the risk of getting up from my chair, get a cookie Mrs. Philbrick left by, and then get back to writing my story.

I don't think I should, I finally decided. A fucking waste of time, really. I wasn't really getting anything done anyway. Two words done so far- my name. Until now, of course. Huh. Some writer I was. For all of you out there thinking of making writing your profession, think twice. Or hell, maybe even thrice. Or more. You get the drift.

Sure, there were people who knew my books. But, not exactly the type I'd expected them to be.

Like Carl the other day. Once a member of a not-so-popular band called 'The Dudes!', he now has a completely different audience. His songs are now heard by his cat, Hun. Carl is just another typical freak you might see on the road, unless he sings all day, all night long near my apartment, of course. Black over-grown hair, dark smudges on his face, he sometimes almost makes me feel sad for him. _Almost. _

He told me the other day he read my book. Which he found in the trash. Hey, don't you all gimme that look, 'cause I swear to God, he said he liked it.

You know what they say, beggars can't be choosers. Atleast Carl read my book. There are people out there who are in a far worse condition. I think.

I hope.

I warm my hands, rubbing them on my cup containing warm coffee. Don't let that expression fool you though. Life? Still going bad. This coffee was not going down my throat. It was made my Mrs. Philbrick, after all, who is almost blind. She walked into a wall yesterday. She also made this coffee.

I mean, I know, I'm having a bad day. But it still hasn't reached the point where I'm suicidal. Tons of things left to do.

Write a book, get a home far, FAR away from Carl and Mrs. Philbrick, have sex. With Bella. Just once. I'd die a happy man.

'My heart was thumping wildly. Thump, thump, thump. I half-expected the cave to open up and swallow me. The wind blew harder…My heart beat harder and harder…'

Just like my door now.

Must be Mrs. Philbrick, again. Wondering if I'd like more coffee. I ignore the incessant knocking, and concentrate on my story again.

'I knew there was no way I could avoid this. Had to be done. I take a deep breath. Moving forward towards the cave, I seal my fate.'

The door rattled and almost broke open. The vibrations set the cardboard boxes leaning against the door spiraling into my chair, knocking my desk and the coffee on it was all over my lap.

"Fuck!" I get up, looking blindly for a washcloth to clean up. No luck there. It was going to leave a stain. Great. "What?" I yell, hoping it WAS Mrs. Philbrick. I could drag her in here, and kill her once and for all. Tempting. So tempting. Sigh.

"Edward? Umm…It's Bella. From next door. I don't know if you know me at all, but I just wanted your help. There's a slight…Umm, problem. A problem."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" I mutter furiously, changing my pants, and putting on a shirt. There were so many things I could have done. Slap on some after-shave, spray myself with deodorant, hairspray my hair like that one dude.

But, I couldn't leave Bella standing out there like that. She wanted something. Me. My help, really. But, who really cares if I twist her words. The way my brain's working, I'm in Bella-land. Completely hooked.

I rushed to the door to swing it open. And…there she was.

Works at a book-store. Real chums with Mrs. Philbrick, reads for her, or some shit. So short I had to bend like crazy to look at her. Brown eyes, brown hair, loves baking. I'd find baskets from her near my door containing scones, or whatever. Tasty as hell. And well, she looked...delicious, as well. Mind in the gutter, can't help it.

"Hello. Bella. Hi," I cough, not wanting to give out what I was thinking right then.

"Edward. Hi! I'm sorry for disturbing you like this. Gee, I almost knocked out your door. I hope it didn't break."

"No, no, I'm sure it will survive. It has for so many years."

She laughed. Sounded like the chiming of bells. Ahem.

"So, listen. Mrs. Philbrick wasn't feeling too well this morning so I had taken her to the hospital and-"

"But, she left the coffee pot by my door today. She does, usually. If she was in the hospital…?"

"Ah, well. When I was taking her, she did say that you liked her coffee a lot. But, she really wasn't feeling well and needed to go see the doctor, so I told her that I could make the coffee for you." She laughed nervously, switching from one foot to the other. "Um, I hope you don't mind…"

"You made me coffee?"

"Um, yes. So, listen. My truck broke down, and I needed a lift to the hospital to go check on Mrs. Philbrick. I know it must be inconvenient to you, and I'd totally understand if you turn me down."

"Hey, hey, slow down. Could you wait downstairs by my car? I'll get my coat and be right down."

She smiled. And, God, her whole face smiled. And that blush. Wow. "Thanks, Edward. I really appreciate it."

"Anytime."

I got inside my apartment again, and shrugged into my coat. Unreal, unbelievable. Bella Swan asked me to drop her off. Not Ross Shannon from upstairs, or Andy Harrison from across the hall. Not even Trevor Owen.

Before going downstairs to Bella, I walked to my desk, and poured myself a fresh cup of coffee from the pot. And I didn't stop drinking until I'd finished the whole thing. Delicious. Just. Like. Her.

_A/N: So. Um, hey…? Yeah. That's that. I'm new to this whole 'write a story' thing. Hope I didn't disappoint. Tell me what you think of it!_

'


	2. Chapter 2

"So. You write, huh?"

I take a moment to answer her, taking a sharp left, and flexing my fingers on the steering wheel. "Yup."

"Anything I've heard of…?"

"I don't really think so…Unless you're into dark stuff. My books are kinda hard to _get_. They might be really intense for you."

We were driving back to the apartment from the hospital. Mrs. Philbrick, I thought, looked absolutely fine. Laying on the bed, head propped up on a million pillows, she was watching 'Murder She Wrote' or some shit, and the way she almost…lit up when she saw us gave away the fact that we were the only ones to visit her.

Bella was _way_ too concerned about her. Asking her if her legs still hurt; if she was hungry…She'd even gotten some books along to read to her. The doctor said she could return home a couple of days later. Her legs would continue to hurt, but, come on, arthritis is kind of a package deal with age. Deal with it, woman.

"If only you'd regularly take the meds I gave, Mrs. Philbrick," The doctor said, shaking his head.

I thought she seemed a little smug that so many people were so concerned about her, actually. At the apartment, she interests only Bella, and…me. Or so she thinks.

Bella smirks. I know, because I'm looking at her. All the time. "What? You think I can't read dark intense books…?"

"No, no, I only meant-"

"You don't want me to read your books"

I stared at her, forgetting the road, mouth wide open, I'm sure. How can she see through my shit? "No. No. I wouldn't mind you reading my books. Honest."

We reach the apartment and I kill the engine of my Impala, contemplating if it would be too cheesy to open the car door for Bella.

Oh, screw it. I'm pretty sure she knows that everyone in the apartment building, except Mrs. Philbrick, find her…well, hot. Including me.

I get out of the car, and realize that she's out too. I shake my head, smiling.

"I really liked 'A Moment Too Soon'," Bella blushed looking down at her shoes.

I stare at her, waiting for her to look up at me. She does, after a while. "My book, 'A Moment Too Soon'?"

Dumbass. What else can it be? So, I quickly rephrase. "You liked my book? I thought you didn't even know I write until Mrs. Philbrick brought it up at the hospital today…"

"Well, I work in a book-store, Edward. And, when you see a familiar name on a book, you're going to wanna read it." She laughs.

"You don't have to be polite by saying that you liked it. Go ahead. You can tell me how you really feel," I wave my hand at her.

She laughs again."No,no, I really liked it."

"I bet it was one of the books that were on the shelf for months and months until someone removed them to make space for books that could actually sell."

"Oh, come on. Did no one else like your book?"

"No! Oh, wait, Carl said he'd liked it."

She laughs again. I catch her eye, and burst out laughing as well. She really was gorgeous. I wonder if I could say that to her without coming off as a dick.

We were in front of her house now. She fished for something in her bag. Her key, maybe. I was wondering how I could prolong my time with her. Maybe offer to go visit Mrs. Philbrick tomorrow again…?

Oh yes. I was done. Over. If I was willing to spend time with that old woman, something really _happened_. Shifted.

I liked Bella. I really did.

"So. There we go." I realize she had opened her door. "Thanks again for dropping me off. My car really is starting to bother."

"Anytime."

"Great."

"Awesome."

"Yeah. So. Um, bye then."

"Yeah. Yeah, bye."

Damn. I should have asked her out. I turn around to get to my apartment.

"Hey, Edward!" She yells.

I turn around at the sound of her voice. "Yes, Bella?"

"You really should get used to compliments. You never know. You could meet a random stranger tomorrow who might tell you he loved your book. And, if the stranger's a girl…" She pauses, looking at me meaningfully. "Your photo on the book _is_ really nice…"

And there was the blush again.

It was my turn to smirk now. "Well, doesn't social protocol call for returning compliments…?"

She laughs, and pauses at her door, one hand holding it, and the other on her hip. I clear my throat, and she raises her eye-brow.

"I liked your coffee better than Mrs. Philbrick's. So better. I _loved_ your coffee."

She smiles. I smile back at her.

The next day, I found a coffee pot at my door. With a note attached.

'_I put extra sugar. Only for you'_

_A/N I'm craving for coffee right now. If you know what I mean ;)_


End file.
